


colossal signs so i got lost

by andfinallywearehome



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: AU, Carmilla!AU, College, M/M, Pansexual Simon, and they were roommates oh my god they were roommates, throwing around google-translated spanish like carmilla throws around the word 'creampuff'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 18:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andfinallywearehome/pseuds/andfinallywearehome
Summary: Say what you will about Jonathan, Simon thinks, Raphael Santiago is a downgrade in the roommate department.[or: saphael and the carmilla!au no one asked for]





	colossal signs so i got lost

**Author's Note:**

> when i started watching shadowhunters, mainly for the laughs, i didn’t think i’d end up shipping simon lewis and raphael santiago as hard as i do, but here we are. 
> 
> i love my fellow asexual and my pansexual boy simon; they deserve all the good things in the world.
> 
> title comes from the song ‘Twice’ by little dragon and i own nothing recognisable.

Simon’s roommate leaves, and he’s not entirely sure why. 

It’s about two months into living together, when the guy - a blond by the name of Jonathan - abruptly packs his things and goes, leaving behind only a scathing note for Simon to find when he returns from class that says something about _extreme incompatibility_ , which is more than a little bit harsh in Simon’s opinion. He’s tried his best to be accommodating during their brief time as roommates, keeping the band practice to a minimum, but apparently his efforts have not been appreciated.

  
“At least you’ve got your own bathroom now,” Clary says, as she stretches out lazily on the now unoccupied bed, making notes for her upcoming paper, and Simon has to admit that there are perks to this situation.

  
He just can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

 

  
\-- x --

  
It’s a Wednesday evening when his new roommate arrives. Simon and Clary are heading back to his room after class so that they can get a head-start on their deadlines, and so Simon can complain about the douchey guy that ran into him that morning and refused to apologise, but the room is not the same as it had been when they left; it’s been invaded with boxes, and what appear to be -- _are those suits?_

  
Simon barely has time to ponder on what kind of person he’s now been put with when the door behind them swings open and hits the wall with a thud, and, yup, there is his new roommate - dark hair, a few inches shorter than Simon himself, and a scowl that could silence anyone.

  
“Evening,” he says, and he doesn’t sound all that friendly.

  
“Hi.” Simon waits to see if he’s going to elaborate, maybe introduce himself - he doesn’t. He exchanges a look with Clary. _Awkward_.

  
\-- x --

  
Say what you will about Jonathan, Simon thinks, Raphael Santiago is a downgrade in the roommate department. Where Jonathan was all brooding silence and aversion to anything that Simon considers to be remotely fun, Raphael is all of this but ten times worse. Simon hadn’t thought it possible for someone who is never awake before sundown, and barely around when he _is_ awake, to annoy him, but, low and behold, someone has managed it. It’s a wonder Raphael is even still here; they’ve been living together for nearly a month by this point, and Simon hasn’t seen his new roommate go to class once.

  
He tries to create some kind of civil relationship between the two of them in the beginning (they have to share a bathroom, after all, and those are the people you have to make friends with), but his casual advances of friendship are not welcome, and after Raphael finally snaps - _Why are you wasting my time, **idiota**?_ \- Simon stops trying altogether, choosing to spend his evenings over in Clary’s room instead. It’s better than being alone in a room with his jerk of a roommate, even when he finds out that the douchey guy who had run into him before class that one time is actually her new boyfriend Jace, who keeps butting in with unwanted comments when Simon is trying to complain to Clary about all the things he can’t change.

  
“Maybe you should just keep trying to get to know him,” he suggests, unhelpfully, when Simon is _again_ lamenting about being stuck with Raphael - this time, it’s about how Raphael won’t allow him to open the blinds in his own damn room anymore.

  
“Easier said than done. Especially when he disappears all night and sleeps all day.”

  
“Like a vampire,” Jace says, and then snorts at his own joke. Simon rolls his eyes.

  
Yeah, he really isn’t a fan of Jace.

  
\-- x --

  
It’s about a week after this that Clary bursts into Simon’s room at ten in the morning without knocking, looking flustered. Simon is already up and getting on with his day, but the sound of the door opening makes a loud groan come from the bed on Raphael’s side of the room, like Clary has done this just to personally annoy him (Simon sort of wishes that she would).

  
“Have you seen Maia?” She asks, ignoring the looks that are being fired at her from Simon’s roommate.

  
“Not since she dropped by band practice yesterday. Why?”

  
Clary is toying with the phone in her hand, chewing on her bottom lip. “Luke just called me. She was supposed to crash at his place because she was working a late shift at the bar last night, but she never showed up. He’s really worried about her, and she hasn’t answered any of his texts. None of mine, either.”

  
“Maybe she just found a friend’s couch to stay on and forgot to check in,” Simon says, even though this seems unlikely. Clary’s adopted father is also like a father figure to Maia; it isn’t like her to let him worry after her. A snort from under the blankets on that side of the room diverts his attention. “Do you have something to contribute?”

  
“No,” comes the reply, lost somewhere under the covers until Raphael’s face appears, squinting against the morning light coming through the closed blinds; he’s actually quite cute like this, all sleep rumpled and half awake, but Simon isn’t letting his pansexual ass wander down that train of thought, _nu-uh_ , not after the month he’s had of having to live with the guy.

  
“However,” Raphael continues, “I would like you two imbeciles to leave the room and have this conversation elsewhere so I don’t have to listen.”

  
“ _Or_ ,” Simon says, “you could just not eavesdrop on us.”

  
“Kind of difficult not to, _bebé_.”

  
“Okay -” Clary interrupts before this gets out of hand, running a hand through her long hair, trying to tidy it “- I’m gonna go ask around, see if anyone else has any idea where she is. Come with me?”

  
“Sure.” He doesn’t even have to consider it; he’ll only be stuck in the room alone with his roommate, who has currently rolled over in an attempt to go back to sleep. “Let me grab my stuff.”

  
\-- x --

  
Ten hours later, Maia is still no where to be found.

  
Clary paces up and down in her room, listing off all the places that they have yet to search, places further out in New York, and she makes a point of trying to avoid looking at Maia’s untouched bed, a constant reminder of her absence. Simon considers, for a moment, going to sit on it himself, but that might only make things worse, and so he remains where he is, awkwardly squashed next to Jace on Clary’s bed.

  
Speaking of Jace, he’s trying to get involved in the one-woman conversation Clary is having.

  
“Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?” He says. “All these kids suddenly leaving.”

  
“What do you mean by that?” Clary stops, mid-pace. Simon is surprised too; it might just be the most interesting thing Jace has said all day.

  
“Remember I told you about that kid in my Lit. class? The one who just dropped out a few weeks ago, and no one could say why?”

  
“What does that have to do with anything?”

  
“Well -” Jace shrugs “- that, and Simon’s old roommate leaving, and now Maia’s gone...It’s just a lot of odd things happening in the same place, at the same time.” When no one contributes anything else, he continues. “What I’m trying to say is that maybe we should investigate this ourselves.”

  
“Us?” Simon stares at him, incredulous. “What the hell can _we_ do?”

  
\-- x --

  
Half an hour later, the wall on Simon’s half of the room has become home to an investigation flow chart; it’s covered in sticky notes, map clippings, and pieces of blue string linking pieces of evidence together.

  
“Okay,” Clary says suddenly, after the three of them have been staring at their handiwork in silence for quite some time (Raphael is also in the room, for once not disappearing as soon as the sky is dark; instead, he’s sitting on his bed, pretending to read some thick volume of non fiction, snorting in disapproval when he thinks one of them is saying something stupid). “Let’s go through what we got so far. We have three missing people, and there could be more than we don’t know about, and they all disappeared from campus for various reasons. Is there anything we know that could link all three of them?”

  
“Maybe they got mixed up in some kind of cult thing,” Simon suggests, ignoring the particularly loud snort that it elicits from the other side of the room.

  
“There’s always that possibility,” Clary agrees, as Jace scribbles _Cult?_ on a sticky note and places it on the wall.

  
“Don’t you think this is all a waste of time?” Raphael’s voice comments dryly from behind them; when Simon turns to glance at him, he’s given up any pretence of reading now, book tossed aside in favour of talking to them. “Do you really think the three of you with your sticky notes on the wall are going to do any actual good?”

  
Simon glares at him. “At least we’re trying to do _something_.”

  
The glare has the opposite effect; Raphael simply looks amused. “Are you trying your very best, _bebé_? I’m sure if you stay pure of heart then it’ll make all the difference.”

  
“I’d rather try than do nothing at all,” Simon says, and then, before he can stop himself: “Better than pretending to be all cool and disaffected to cover up the fact I’m miserable and alone.”

  
 _That_ makes the humour drain from his roommate’s face. Clary touches his shoulder.

“Simon --”

  
Raphael interrupts her, and his tone is sharp enough to _cut_. “And so you’re deluding yourself into thinking that you’re doing anything to help those people. Do you know anything that you didn’t know half an hour ago?”

When Simon doesn’t answer - he _can’t_ , because they _don’t_ \- Raphael shakes his head, finally rising to leave the room, throwing a “Don’t mess with what you don’t understand, _bebé_ ,” over his shoulder as he does.

  
“Simon,” Clary says again, as Simon glares at the back of his roommate’s head. “Ignore him.”

  
“I know.”

  
\-- x --

  
Surprisingly - or perhaps not, considering their conversation the night before - Raphael is absent when Simon finally wakes. A glance at his phone tells him that he’s missed his class for the day by many hours, and so he takes the opportunity to just revel in having the place to himself during daylight hours, even opening the blinds in an attempt to soak up what little sun is left of the day. He’s only got half a box of cereal lying about the room, but that will do for now - he’s supposed to be a college student now, after all, and don’t all college students survive off of whatever crap they can find lying around? - and he grabs Raphael’s carton of milk out of the mini fridge, because the son of a bitch isn’t there to tell him not to.

  
It’s only when he starts to pour the contents of the milk carton over his cereal that Simon sees that something isn’t right, and he flails, letting out an undignified _oh my **god**_ as he drops the carton and the red substance that _definitely isn’t milk_ seeps out and stains the pale carpet.

  
Naturally, he does the first thing he can think of. He texts Clary.

 

**To: Clary**

_clary._   
_clary._   
_clary._

**From: Clary**

_simon?_   
_what??_

**To: Clary**

_blood._  
 _in the milk carton._  
 _in my creepy roommate’s milk carton_.

  
There’s a long moment. Then:

  
**From: Clary**

_i’m coming over._

  
\--x --

  
Jace is examining the stain on the carpet. “Is it real?”

  
Clary is peering over his shoulder. “It seems to be.”

  
“Maybe the vampire theory wasn’t so far off, then,” Jace says, and he sounds far too serious about that for Simon’s liking, because, yeah, blood in a milk carton is fucking weird, _but_ \--

  
“Maybe he got Maia too,” he says, a bad attempt at lightening the mood. Jace and Clary simply look at him, deadly serious. “He’s not -- Guys, he didn’t get Maia.” Nothing. “Seriously? You guys _seriously_ think he’s a _vampire_?”

  
Jace raises an eyebrow. “You got a better explanation for this, Lewis?”

  
“It’s not like you can just ask him,” Clary agrees, before starting an impression that is _supposed_ to be Simon. “ _Hey, Raphael, my man, hope you had a great time wherever you disappear to when the sun goes down, but quick question: having a milk container full of blood in our refrigerator doesn’t make you a vampire, right? Cool._ ”

  
He crosses his arms. “I don’t sound _anything_ like that.”

  
“You kinda do,” Jace says; Simon glares at him.

  
Clary only rolls her eyes. “Communication is important to every relationship, Si.”

  
“You make it sound like we’re having marriage problems.”

  
“Well, aren’t you?” Jace cuts in, smirking, just as the door opens behind them and, speak of the devil, Raphael is there, all unkempt like he just rolled out of someone’s bed ten minutes ago (Simon doesn’t like that idea very much, and then tells himself to get a grip). He doesn’t look at all impressed with the fact that Simon has brought friends over - although, really, he should be used to it by now - and Clary and Jace bow out in silence, Clary mouthing _communication_ just before Raphael slams the door in their faces.

Apparently, by the way he yanks the blinds down and cuts off the last few weak rays of sunlight that are trying to crawl into the room, he’s not interested in making the effort to engage in this communication.

  
Instead of trying to start a subtle conversation, however, the first thing Simon says is, “What the hell is this?”

  
Raphael pauses, and his eyes fall on the open carton sitting on Simon’s desk, moving down to the stain under his chair that no amount of carpet cleaner seems to be able to shift. Simon is pretty sure that, for a second, he can actually see the wheels turning in his brain, before he strides across the room in two steps and snatches the carton up.

  
“It’s fake,” he says, after a moment of silence that feels too long.

  
“Well, if it was your idea of a joke, it wasn’t funny.”

  
“If you hadn’t been touching my things, _bebé_ , you wouldn’t have found it and you would be none the wiser.”

  
Simon doesn’t have an answer for that; he settles for pulling a face when he thinks Raphael can’t see him.

  
\-- x --

  
The issue of Raphael maybe or maybe not being an actual, honest to god vampire doesn’t stop the rest of the world turning. Simon still has classes to go to and worry about, as well as his sudden new life as part of Clary and Jace’s freelance investigating team, and it’s led him to many sleepless nights and bad dreams that he can’t quite explain.

  
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Raphael says, when he returns just before sunrise and finds Simon still awake. “You haven’t even found something to complain about.”

  
Simon doesn’t dignify him with a response, and he sighs; instead of giving up and simply climbing into bed like Simon half expects, he takes a seat opposite him, perched on the end of the bed. “Alright. I think I’m going to regret asking, _bebé_ , but what’s wrong?”

  
“What do you think is wrong?” Simon gestures towards the appropriately dubbed “case wall” behind him. “We’ve been working on this for days, weeks, now, and we’re still no closer to finding Maia, or any the others. How can we help them if we can’t find anything?”

  
“They’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  
“How can you be so sure?”

  
“You’d be surprised,” Raphael says, this time with a raised eyebrow. “Some of the things I’m sure of.”

  
Jace’s vampire comment loudly replays itself in Simon’s head. He can’t believe he’s actually starting to take this theory seriously.

  
“Go on, then. Surprise me.”

  
Raphael smiles - a genuine half smile. “I have to keep some of my secrets, _cariño_. Or else I’ll lose my air of mystery.”

  
“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that,” Simon says dryly, and the remark makes his roommate smile wider. He moves to stand again, and then pauses as if considering something, before laying a hand on Simon’s shoulder.

  
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, before turning away to get back to what Simon can only assume will be more brooding silence.

  
It might be the nicest conversation they’ve ever had.

  
\-- x --

  
Raphael Santiago isn’t actually as terrible a roommate as Simon initially thought.

  
If the sudden mugs of coffee that appear beside him whilst he’s working late into the night are anything to go by, he could swear that Raphael has almost become _fond_ of him.

  
\-- x --

  
Of course, it’s just Simon’s luck that he finds the incriminating evidence the moment that they form a halfway decent domestic routine between the two of them.

  
They are still no where near close enough to finding Maia, even with Luke’s official investigation going on, but Clary meets him after class one day, hardly able to contain her excitement, because it turns out that Jace knows someone who knows someone else who knows Isabelle Lightwood. The name doesn’t ring a bell, but apparently she’s very high-up and has connections with people higher up than most of the lowly students, as proven when she waltzes into Simon’s room later that evening, all high heels and red lipstick, and drops the keys to the security office into Clary’s palm.

  
“Piece of cake,” she says, giving the redhead a wink. She doesn’t ask what they need the keys for, and Simon is kind of grateful, because the whole _I low-key think my roommate is a vampire_ thing probably isn’t the best first impression to give. Luckily, it’s late enough for Raphael to already have made his exit.

  
It’s past midnight when Jace and Clary knock for him, the hour when, according to Isabelle, the security office is empty and unguarded. Sneaking across campus in the dead of night, even with all the floodlights surrounding them, feels like one of the adventures he used to read about in the superhero comics of his childhood - until Jace tells him how _it isn’t breaking in when you have keys, Lewis_ , and Simon wonders, again, what Clary sees in Jace.

  
There’s hours of camera footage to search through, coming from all over campus, and Simon nearly drops off to sleep twice as they search through all the tapes from the past two months, until, suddenly, Clary smacks his arm.

  
“Simon --” She points at the grainy image on screen; it’s Maia, leaving the campus bar sometime after midnight, but that’s not what Clary is referring to. No, she’s referring to the other person in the footage. If this were a movie, Simon is sure that this is the moment when he would spit out his mouthful of food or something.

  
“Holy crap. Is that -- ?”  
“Yup.” Clary’s voice is grim. “Your roommate.”

  
\-- x --

  
They check through more footage, and then more footage on top of that, as much as they can find.

  
Wherever the missing students are, right before they vanish to never be seen again, Raphael is behind them, half hidden in the shadows, watching. Like he's _waiting_.

  
_Shit._

  
\-- x --

  
Of course, Jace, with his ever-growing plethora of “good ideas”, has a genius plan to catch Simon’s vampire roommate. It’s simple enough, really: they’re going ambush him somewhere when he’s off guard, but that’s not the catch.

  
The catch is Simon is bait. He’s fucking _bait_.

  
“I’m telling you, it’s gonna work,” Jace insists, as they convene in Clary’s room to strategize. “He likes you. You said it yourself.”

  
“Or maybe he’s started being nice to me because I’m next.”

  
“ _Simon_.” Clary rolls her eyes. “If he wanted to kidnap you, he would have done it already whilst you were sleeping.”

  
“Thanks, Clary. That’s only made me never want to sleep again.”

  
“You know what I mean! Trust us, Simon, this will _work_.”

  
Simon is not reassured by this. It doesn’t help that, by the time he gets back to his room, Raphael is there, meaning that he can’t have time to think about this plan in peace because the object of said plan is _right there_ , nose in one of those books he’s always got by his bedside. Simon wonders if Raphael has some inkling that he’s onto him, or that he knows that he’s involved with Maia’s disappearance; maybe he knows and just doesn’t care. The thought of Maia makes him feel a little guilty about doubting this plan; this is what they’ve worked towards, right? Finding the person that _did it_. Simon just hadn’t thought that person would be right under his nose.

  
“Simon.”

  
He snaps out of his thoughts. Raphael has abandoned the book in favour of watching him. “Huh?”

  
“I’ve been calling your name for nearly five minutes, _bebé_. You’re lost in your own head.”

  
“Yeah, well --” It’s now or never, he thinks, if he’s going to go through with this insane plan; _do it for Maia_. “I was, uh, hoping to ask you something.”

  
“Oh?”

  
“Yeah,” Simon says again, and then clears his throat. _Goddamnit, Lewis_. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow. Like, as proper friends, not, you know -” He gestures at nothing in particular “- unwilling roommates.”

  
_Nailed it._

  
Raphael doesn’t say anything for a while, and, for a moment, Simon thinks he’s going to decline, tell him that they really are nothing more than unwilling roommates; at least if he says no, Simon won’t have to go through with Jace’s _brilliant_ idea of being vampire bait.

  
Unfortunately, luck is not on his side.

  
“Okay. Why not.”

  
“Great,” Simon says, even though it isn’t. “Well, there’s a dorm party tomorrow night, if you’re up for terrible music and loud drunk people. You know, the usual college deal.”

  
“If I can put up with living with you for a month, I think I can put up with that for a few hours.”

  
“I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

  
“Whatever you want, _cariño_.” Raphael’s got that smile on his face, the half smile he has when he’s genuinely smiling, and it makes Simon’s stomach do that weird flip-flop feeling he gets when he’s nervous - because Raphael, kidnapper he may be, apparently trusts him enough to not ask questions, and Simon is about to break that trust and risk becoming vampire breakfast.

  
His impending fate looks even bleaker the next day, and Simon spends most of his classes _not listening_. He’s almost tempted to back out and tell Raphael that he’s sick and can’t make it, and he almost _does_ , but the words die in his mouth when he enters his room and sees his roommate there waiting for him, two glasses and a bottle of what appears to be champaign in his hands - hideously expensive champaign, at that.

  
“I thought we were going out,” is Simon’s opening statement, as he lets his backpack drop to the floor.

  
“Isn’t pre-drinking what all college students do?”

  
“Well, yeah.” Simon moves his desk chair closer to Raphael’s side of the room and sits opposite him. “I mean, most kids just settle for shots of cheap vodka, but champaign is good too.”

  
“I’ve become fond of it.” Raphael pours a glass and passes it to Simon. “They served this at the first party I ever want to.”

  
“You say that like it was a hundred years ago,” Simon says, and then quickly takes a drink as if this will somehow make him less suspicious.

  
“It feels that way sometimes.”

  
“Yeah.” Simon isn’t very good at this bait thing, is he? “So, uh, what say we chug this champaign and get ready to go to that party, yeah?”

  
It’s a long stretch; it doesn’t work.

  
“ _Dios._ ” Raphael seems to be talking to himself now. “What am I doing?”

  
“Well, right now, we’re sitting in our room and avoiding going to the party by drinking ridiculously expensive champaign - speaking of which, where did you even _get_ this?”

  
“Not that, _idiota_. You.”

  
“Me? What have I done now?”

  
“Everything. You’re annoying, and loud, and you don’t stop talking, and you and your friends just parade in and out of here like the world is going to end in the next five minutes -”

  
“Wow, _thanks_ -”

  
“I ought to know better than this,” Raphael continues like Simon hasn’t spoken. “And yet here I am, because...there’s just something about you.”

  
Simon thinks, in a brief moment of insanity, that he’s about to get kissed right now.

  
And then the moment is broken - the door flies open, as Simon is all but knocked out of his chair at the sound of Clary’s voice screaming _get away from him,_ and Jace is three steps behind her as she throws herself on Raphael, who is clearly caught off-guard by the onslaught that has just come his way, and tries to hold him down.

  
\-- x--

  
“Come _on_ ,” Clary says for the fifth time, watching as Raphael shifts his weight slightly but makes no attempt to wriggle out of the rope that they’ve used to keep him tied to the chair. Despite looking furious when they had first managed to tie him up, Simon thinks he now just looks _bored_. He wonders how he hasn’t broken free yet; either Clary can tie knots like she’s in the navy, or his roommate is just toying with them at this point.

  
“We know that you’re involved with the disappearances of those people,” Clary continues, in the most intimidating voice she can manage. “The sooner you talk, the sooner we let you go.”

  
“Have you got somewhere to be in a hurry?” Raphael inquires.

  
She raises an eyebrow. “No.”

  
“Well, that’s good, because we’re going to be here a while, aren’t we, _amigo_?”

  
Clary huffs, but Jace cuts in before she can retaliate. “Why can’t you just tell us how those people went missing?”

  
Raphael’s eyes narrow as he looks at him, and, yup, the anger is back again. “Maybe because I didn’t do it, _you dimwit.”_

  
Simon can tell that this is going to be a long night.

  
\-- x --

  
Three days later, Raphael is still tied to the chair.

  
He’s a lot paler than usual by this point, dark marks blossoming under his eyes like he hasn’t slept for a week, and he’s got a look in his eyes, something feral that grows and grows with every hour that passes - another hour without the blood that keeps him alive.

  
“Shouldn’t we feed him or something?” Simon whispers to Clary, as they watch their hostage from the doorway. “Isn’t it a bit inhumane to just leave him like this?”

  
“And it’s not inhumane to kidnap innocent students?” Clary replies, and then shakes her head. “He took _Maia_ , Si, and he can’t even do the decent thing and admit to it.”

  
Simon nods, because technically she is right (Raphael still hasn’t admitted to a single thing since being tied up), but _still_ \--

  
He’s not as stubborn as Clary, not when it comes to this; when he sees Raphael’s eyes flutter closed and his body start to tremble and shake in the chair, he grabs the milk carton of blood from the refrigerator and all but pours the remaining liquid down his throat, muttering a recurring mantra of _oh god, oh god, oh god_ , until Raphael opens his eyes again, and his eyes are no longer wild and starving - he looks like Simon’s annoying, broody roommate again, even with the blood running down his chin.

  
“ _Tienes suerte de que me gustes, bebé_ ,” he mumbles, and although Simon has no idea what he’s saying, it doesn’t sound Raphael is about to rip the chair apart in an effort to break free and kill him, which is the best result he can hope for right now.

  
“Are you alright?” Simon ventures, soft and wary.

  
It takes his roommate a moment to respond. “I’ve been better.”

  
“I’m sorry.” He takes a seat beside him, because he knows he’s not in any danger. “About the whole hostage thing. I didn’t think it would get to this point.”

  
“You mean to the point where your little redhead friend was trying to convince you to let me starve to death?”

  
Simon winces. “She just wants to help those missing students,” he says, even if it’s a pretty lame excuse for keeping someone tied up in your dorm room for over 48 hours.

  
“You keep saying as much.” Raphael snorts. “And she says _I’m_ inhumane.”

  
“She just wants the truth. We all do.” It’s like beating a dead - or _undead_ \- horse with a stick at this point, but the words still tumble from his mouth anyway. “Come on, man, you have to know something about this. Tell me what happened so I know that you didn’t guzzle my old roommate Jonathan like he was a walking milkshake.”

  
“Why do you even care so much?”

  
That’s a question and a half - and he has a point. Simon didn’t have to go along with this investigation, back when Jace first brought it up, and yet he has. He’s been there through it all.

  
“Honestly? I think I care because no one else seems to.”

  
There’s a beat of silence between them. Then:

  
“Fine.” He’s so quiet that Simon almost doesn’t hear him.

  
“Fine?”

  
“Fine. I’ll tell you.” There’s a warning tone in his voice now. “If this leaves this room, _bebé_ , I swear -”

  
“It won’t. Promise.”

  
Raphael doesn’t look particularly reassured by Simon’s promises, and Simon doesn’t really blame him for that at this point, but it’s enough.

  
\-- x --

  
“Are we sure he’s not a kidnapper?” Jace wraps a protective arm around Clary’s waist, as he sends a sideways glance at Raphael; the vampire is still tied to the chair, but Simon has decided to set up Netflix for him to stave off his boredom, and also taped another milk carton of blood to the chair as well to avoid him dying of starvation.

  
“Trust me, guys,” Simon insists. “It’s got nothing to do with him. It’s someone else, another vampire - What was her name?”

  
“Camille,” Raphael says around the straw in his mouth.

  
“Yeah, Camille. She’s the one that’s been taking people.”

  
“Okay, but, are you _sure_?” Clary says; her face is pinched in worry, and Simon knows she’s probably thinking about Maia. “He could just be lying to trick us into letting him go.”

  
“ _Dios_.” Raphael is craning his head to look at her now. “After seven days of being tied up and kept prisoner by you three toddlers, I wouldn’t sink even lower to the point where I would start scheming to get to you to release me.”

  
“He’s right,” Simon agrees, ignoring the look that Jace gives him ( _fucking Jace_ ). “Besides, now we have even bigger problems. We have to figure out how we’re going to save Maia and the others from this Camille without getting eaten ourselves.”

  
“How are we supposed to do that?”

  
“Aren’t you usually the one with the bright ideas?” Simon says, eyebrow raised. From beside him, he can hear Raphael snickering.

  
\-- x --

  
Although Clary is initially unwilling, they collectively agree to let Simon’s vampire roommate go.

  
“This isn’t the part where you turn on me and eat me, is it?” Simon asks, as he pulls the last bit of rope away, and Raphael rises from the chair for the first time in a week.

  
“Not unless you give me ideas,” Raphael says, but they both know he isn’t serious. Or, at least, Simon hopes that they both know he isn’t.

  
“It still leaves us with a problem,” Jace interrupts from the doorway; apparently it’s fine for Simon to risk death to free the vampire. “What are we gonna do about Camille?”

  
“Who says that she’s going to let you close enough for you to do anything? The closest she’ll ever let you get to her is when she’s about to drain every drop of blood from your body.”

  
Jace pulls a face. “Ugh, you sound way too happy about that, dude.”

  
“I’m more amused by the fact that you three think that you stand any sort of chance.”

  
“Don’t give up on us so easily,” Clary protests, but her words fall on deaf ears. As far as Raphael is concerned, all three of them are a lost cause.

  
\-- x --

  
Simon doesn’t know where he is, or how he got here.

  
All he knows is that it’s dark, and _cold_ , and he’s been tied to a chair with ropes around his hands; it cuts into his wrists as he struggles to break free. He can’t see, but he knows that someone is there - it’s a feeling, crawling up the back of his neck, like they’re stood in the darkness around him, watching  -

  
\- and then suddenly he’s awake, sitting up in bed and gasping for air, and Raphael is beside him, hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

  
“Bad dream?” He says, once Simon has calmed down enough to form sentences.

  
“You could say that.”

  
“Do you want to talk about it?”

  
Simon considers this, and then shakes his head. “I’d rather not think about it ever again, to be honest.” A pause. Then: “Can I ask you a personal question, though?”

  
Raphael ponders this for a moment, and sits next to him on the bed. “Depends on what it is.”

  
“How long have you been a vampire?”

  
“About fifty years.”

  
“Really? That’s all?”

  
“Why, were you expecting a higher number?”

  
Simon shrugs. “Little bit, yeah.”

  
Raphael snorts. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  
“Can I ask another question?”

  
“Are you going to ask me that every time you want to be nosy?”

  
“Are you scared of Camille?”

  
“No.” A moment of silence. “Not for myself, anyway.”

  
It takes Simon a moment, through his sleep-fogged brain, to work out what he means.

  
“Oh. I mean, it’s okay, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  
“Of course you can.”

  
“Hey. I can.”

  
“I know you’ll give it a damn good try, _idiota_ ,” Raphael says, and he’s looking at him the same way he had right before the ambush, softly, like he’s about to be kissed, and it’s a kiss that he probably wouldn’t mind all that much, but suddenly Clary is awake, pulling herself up into a sitting position, and Raphael is a safe distance away from him, certainly not close enough to touch his hair or even think about kissing him, and Simon can almost taste disappointment. Disappointment is bitter.

  
“You okay?” she asks, her voice a hushed whisper so as not to wake Jace, who had insisted on taking the floor.

  
“Yeah. Just some weird dreams.” Simon keeps his gaze anywhere Raphael _isn’t._ He doesn’t want to watch the reaction to this next bit; he already has some idea of how it’s going to go. “Also, I think I have an idea, about how we can find Maia.”

  
Clary looks more awake now, and her eyes are narrowed in suspicion. She’s heard something in his tone she doesn’t like.

  
“I’m listening.”

  
\-- x --

  
“You’re insane.”

  
“It’ll work,” Simon says, but Clary isn’t willing to listen to him.

  
“Simon, _no_. You can’t get yourself kidnapped on purpose, even to try to break the other students out. It’s a terrible plan -”

  
“It’s the only plan we’ve got!” Simon interrupts. “Think about it, Clary: we don’t know anything about Camille, or where she’s hiding, or whether or not Maia and Jonathan and whoever else she’s taken are still alive. The only way to get them out is to get on the inside.”

  
“And what happens if they’re not alive, hm? What happens if she kills them as soon as they get taken and turns them into blood bags?” Clary folds her arms across her chest.

  
“That’s a risk we have to take! Look, I don’t even know if I can do anything to help, but --”

  
“But sometimes you have to try anyway, right?” Jace says, the first thing he’s said since he had woken up everyone arguing over whether or not Simon should reprise his role as vampire bait, and Simon nods. Maybe Jace isn’t so bad after all.

  
Clary apparently doesn’t think so; she spins around to look at her boyfriend accusingly. “ _Jace!_ ”

  
“Simon’s right, Clary. We’ve got no other way to do this, and you know it.”

  
“Well -” She flounders for a moment, before she looks to Simon again. “Well, you’re not going alone. If you’re insisting on this stupid plan, then I’m gonna be right there with you, and you can’t stop me.”

  
“I can’t ask you to do that.”

  
“You’re not asking, Si. I’m volunteering.”

  
“Are all of you insane?” Raphael’s voice interrupts them; Simon had almost forgotten that he’s still there in the room with them, but one glance at him makes him wonder how on earth he could forget. He looks _angry_ , almost as angry as when they had kept him starving and tied to that stupid chair. “You’re going to go waltzing into Camille’s lair, unprepared, no plan, no weapons, no -” He looks to Simon now, _only_ at Simon. “Are you that desperate to throw your life away for nothing?”

  
“It won’t be for nothing if it saves Maia -”

  
 _“I wasn’t asking you._ ” Clary actually recoils at the hostility that is being directed her way. “Well? Simon?”

  
“Clary’s right,” Simon says, and, even with the glare being fired at him, he meets Raphael’s gaze and _holds it._ “We started this to try and find those missing students, and now we might actually have a chance to. Are you coming with us?”

  
Raphael just looks at him for a moment, like Simon has gone mad (and maybe he has - his roommate is a freaking _vampire_ , and apparently there’s an even bigger and badder vampire out there that he’s going to _willingly fight_ ) and then he’s gone, with vampire speed, still managing to slam the door on his way out and leaving Simon staring after him.

  
Looks like they’re on their own in this.

  
“Come on.” Jace lays a hand on his shoulder, comforting. “If we’re going to do any kind of damage, we need to do this right.”

  
\-- x--

  
The whole being kidnapped thing goes pretty well, all things considered.

  
Maia, Jonathan and the other students - five of them, in total - are still alive, and Jonathan even throws his arms around Simon when he finds out that he’s there to rescue them, only to catch himself a moment later and shove him away. Simon is still appreciative of the gesture.

  
Maia wastes no time as they wage war on the vampires holding them captive; she points out which one is Camille, and Clary flies at her with all the rage being five-foot-two gives her, and lands a good few punches before she is battered away and sent to the floor, only to struggle to her feet again in a moment. Simon doesn’t have that much stamina to offer, but it’s enough to knock out one of Camille’s minions; even Jonathan looks impressed.

  
Of course, it can’t keep going well forever. These people are vampires, after all, and Simon and company are just humans - humans who get tired, who get injured, who _bleed_. Clary isn’t fairing as well as before, her punches getting weaker and weaker, and Jace is too far away, nearly being crushed to death, to offer her any kind of help, and before Simon can even try to offer some himself, someone has him up by the throat, crushing his windpipe until his chest feels like it’s going to explode with the excess carbon dioxide --  
\-- and then it’s over, and Simon is on the ground trying to remember how breathing works, his attacker also on the ground with Raphael stood over him.

  
His eyes meet Simon’s.

  
“You know,” he says, “I really hope I don’t make a habit of saving your sorry ass, _bebé_.”

  
\-- x --

  
Raphael dies to save them.

  
Simon isn’t quite sure how he’s going to live with this.

  
\-- x --

  
“You’ll be okay.”

  
Magnus, a friend of Raphael’s, has become a permanent residence in the room over the past few days. He’s been bundling Simon up in the biggest blankets he can find, as if he’s determined to fuss over him like he’s the baby Raphael claims - _claimed_ \- he is.

  
“Time will pass,” he continues, taking a seat beside him and wrapping his hand around a warm mug of coffee, “and the world will move on, and you will heal. Believe me, I know.”

  
“Yeah.” Simon burrows further into the soft material. “Yeah, I know. I’ve dealt with loss before. It’s just -”

  
“What?”

  
“It’s just that, yeah, okay, he was a terrible roommate, and we were never really the best of friends, but...” He stops, and Magnus waits, patiently, understandingly, until he continues. “But he was _my_ terrible roommate.”

  
\-- x --

  
“Simon?” Maia knocks on the half open door before she enters. Simon actually manages a smile when he sees her today; she’s looking much better than she had done throughout the battle, even if her lip is still split down the middle.

  
Magnus is right: time _does_ heal some things.

  
“Hey, Maia. How’s Luke?”

  
“He’s okay. Just glad that I’m safe.” There’s an amused half smile playing on her lips. “I still have no idea what to tell him when he starts asking questions. But, anyway, that’s not what I came here for.”

  
“Oh, yeah?”

  
“Yeah. I’m delivering a message from Clary. She’s got someone asking to see you.”

  
\-- x --

  
Simon doesn’t understand why he has to enter Clary’s room alone until he sees his roommate perched on the end of Maia’s bed, nursing what appears to be another milk carton of blood.

  
“You’re dead,” is all that Simon can say, when he manages to formulate proper words.

  
“Thank you for telling me.” Raphael raises an eyebrow. “Nearly six decades of being a vampire, and I never knew.”

  
“That’s not what I meant. You died _again_. You threw Camille over that cliff, and then jumped after -” Simon stops; he doesn’t want to revisit that memory, not now, not ever. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  
“I’m sorry, _cariño_.” He gets up, and crosses the room to where Simon is frozen by the door; he wonders if this is the moment where they hug and make up, until Raphael presses a kiss to his forehead as an apology, and Simon decides, right there and then, to skip the hug and pull him in for a proper kiss - and it’s better than he could have ever hoped for.

  
“If you ever die on me like that again,” Simon murmurs, “I’m gonna kill you.”

  
“I know, _cariño_ ,” Raphael says, and kisses him all over again.


End file.
